


When This World is Cruel to Me, I've Got You To Help Me Forgive

by yalejosie



Category: Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Gen, M/M, hurt comfort in the house babey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-13
Updated: 2019-07-13
Packaged: 2020-06-27 10:00:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19788574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yalejosie/pseuds/yalejosie
Summary: Crowley deals with a nightmare, and Aziraphale helps his friend in a time of needTitle from You're My Best Friend by none other than Queen





	When This World is Cruel to Me, I've Got You To Help Me Forgive

**Author's Note:**

> So hello!! Welcome to my first hurt comfort in this fandom!!!! I really worked hard on this. This is dedicated to my friend Jedi on my good omens discord server!!!! And also hours the Ritz discord server in general, yall rule!!! I hope yall enjoy!!

There were few things that Crowley was truly afraid of.

Holy water, but he was sure every demon was afraid of holy water at least a little. 

Losing Aziraphale, that was a big one.

But probably the top contender for the Thing Crowley Is Most Afraid of award was Crowley’s own imagination.

For while Crowley’s imagination was usually beneficial and exciting, it sometimes turned on its master during the night, when he was fast asleep, in ways most humans wouldn't be able to even imagine.

\---

Usually, by the time the clock struck twelve, Crowley was at home asleep or yelling at his plants, and Aziraphale was cuddled up with some tea and a good book (he had never been known to sleep).

Tonight, the angel and the demon were settled on the sofa at the back of Aziraphale’s bookshop, a few large bottles of wine and two wine glasses set on a table nearby. 

Aziraphale and Crowley had just spent the evening in one of their favorite ways, with many glasses of fine wine and a comfortable sofa. It had been only a few months after Armageddidn’t, but Aziraphale and Crowley had spent more time together in that short span than they had been allowed to over six thousand years. Making up for lost time, indeed. Over the course of the evening, they had had their usual arguments about where certain musicians, historians, etc. ended up in the afterlife.

“Where did Edgar Allan Poe end up?” Aziraphale inquired

“Pretty sure he ended up with our lot.” Crowley replied cheekily. “All the good authors do.”

Aziraphale responded huffily, “Well that’s not true! We have C.S Lewis, who was quite a talented writer!”

“Well  _ we _ have Lewis Carroll.”

The conversation continued like this through the evening, either Aziraphale or Crowley adding a name to the list after a few more sips of wine. Near the end of the evening, they called a truce, and decided to reminisce on past adventures. 

“ ‘Member that time we were nearly discorporated by a lion?” Crowley asked sleepily. 

“You were the one who insisted we rescue the lion from the gladiator ring!” Aziraphale chided half heartedly. 

“Well, releasing the thing was bound to cause some chaos.” Crowley replied. He then muttered, “And because getting killed in a gladiator ring must be a bad way to go.”

Aziraphale pretended not to hear Crowley’s mutter, but the angel gave him a warm smile anyways. 

The pair settled into a comfortable silence. Aziraphale leaned his head on Crowley’s shoulder, closed his eyes, and started humming softly. 

At this point in the evening, Crowley would usually sober up and head back to his flat. Yet, this evening, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. His angel was comfortable, and he was comfortable. They had all the time in the world to have nights like this. They had won. Crowley sank into the ecstacy of the moment the way one sinks into a hot tub. 

“Crowley, I have a quick question.” Aziraphale murmured gently.

“What is it, Angel?” Crowley responded in an equally soft way. 

“How do you sleep?”

Crowley thought on his angel’s question, and replied, “Well, you just sit back for a while and you don’t think at all. Then, eventually, you just, uh, drift away.” 

Aziraphale nodded without moving his head from Crowley’s shoulder. “I think tonight I’m going to try for the first time. I’ve never really had a reason to, but you’re here, so I may as well try.”

Crowley smiled softly and said, “Do you want me to stay here for the night?”

Aziraphale replied, “Of course, my dear.”

Aziraphale miracled a fluffy afghan onto himself and Crowley, and settled more comfortably onto Crowley’s shoulders. 

Crowley himself leaned back on the couch as Aziraphale’s breaths deepened, and closed his eyes. He figured tonight he would sleep better than he had ever before, for he had never felt this happy and relaxed before. Crowley fell asleep with a peaceful smile on his face, looking forward to pleasant dreams. Maybe tonight he would dream about Eden.

\---

Crowley was back, staring at the edge of his world once again.

Lucifer had already been cast down in a flash of celestial fire, spinning down into the void for disobeying Her. 

As Lucifer had fallen, Crowley had noticed a few black feathers in his ice white wings. They seemed beautiful to Crowley, as dark as the night sky he had placed the stars in, except they meant that he was doomed. For as Lucifer had Fallen, his wings had burned up, fluffy white replaced by charcoal black. How had Crowley gotten into this mess again? He had certainly talked to Lucifer a few times, and even agreed with some of his points, but he had never followed Lucifer. He had just wanted to ask Her questions….

The void in front of Crowley was not like the dark cosmos beyond the veil of heaven, no. It was the opposite, a dark, yawning void that ate all light as soon as it came close to it’s gaping maw.

The angels were getting closer, their swords alight with hellfire. Crowley could feel the heat emanating across his skin. They had killed or struck down all of Lucifer’s followers, and Crowley supposed he was the last one. 

But wait, wasn’t Crowley an angel too? No, not anymore apparently. He was something, but he wasn’t the same as them anymore.

Crowley backed away from the angels and towards the void, telling God that he was sorry, begging for her forgiveness. His pleas fell on deaf ears. So, Crowley decided that he was at least going to leave in style. With all the fake confidence he could muster, Crowley swaggered over to the edge of the void, and swan dived. The last clear memory of Heaven Crowley had were the angelic cheers of “Death to the Traitor!” screamed down at him from his former home, his former family. Crowley had sauntered, and Crowley Fell. 

Crowley Fell at a terrifying speed, his body enveloped with fire that was painful beyond words. Crowley cried out as it burned away his wings, his name, his soul. And then the acid. He was already exposed, but the acid sealed the deal. It made sure that he would never forget his sin, never let his body or his memory scab over. Crowley sank into the liquid, so deep that no light, not even hellfire, could reach him. He desperately tried to swim up, but the weight of the sulfur was too heavy. He was going to drown, there was nothing he could do.

When Crowley hit the bottom, he woke up with a gasp, sitting straight up on a worn leather sofa.

\---

It took a minute for Crowley to remember where he was. He looked around wildly, struggling to find a familiar object or face that would give him a clue. Where he was smacked him in the face when Crowley heard his name murmured by the sleepy angel next to him. Crowley was in Aziraphale’s bookshop, thousands of years after his Fall, both Heaven and Hell resolute in leaving him the fuck alone. He took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm down, but his wretched heart (three sizes too big for a demon) wouldn’t stop beating so fast, and his hands started shaking.

In an effort to save face, Crowley reached over to the table and put on his shades. No one needed to see his eyes right now, his demonic mark, for they were slits and brimming with unshed tears. 

Aziraphale sat up and looked over at Crowley’s shaking form with a sad sort of smile, full of concern and sympathy. He brought Crowley’s face towards him, and gently lifted the glasses off his face.

“It’s okay, Crowley, you can show me. There is no need to be afraid”

Crowley let Aziraphale take his hand, and leaned back on the couch. Tear tracks were starting to crisscross all over his face, and the angel gingerly wiped them away.

“Do you, ah, want to talk about it?” Aziraphale asked kindly.

Crowley sat in silence for a minute, and then responded, “What is there to talk about? I Fell. I just wish my bloody head would get over it already, it’s been thousands of years.”

A rush of concern passed over Aziraphale’s face, and he gave Crowley a little squeeze with his hand. The angel had no idea what to do. Aziraphale had never Fallen, and he (hopefully) never would. He had never even had a nightmare, as tonight was his very first night he had attempted to sleep. Yet, what he did know was Crowley, and in this moment, Crowley looked  _ afraid _ and in need of a friend. All the angel could do was be there for his demon and hope that was enough.

After a long silence, Crowley allowed Aziraphale to envelop him in a soft, reassuring hug. Crowley clung to Aziraphale as if he was a lone life preserver in the middle of a raging sea. If a few tears spilled, Aziraphale made a careful note to not notice them. 

Aziraphale softly rubbed Crowley’s back, and gently whispered, “I’m sorry, Crowley. I’m so sorry.”

At some point, the hug loosened, and Aziraphale miracled the fluffy afghan back over himself and Crowley in an effort to see if either of them could fall back asleep. It was barely twilight outside, the stars in the sky unaware of the anguish their creator was feeling. 

Crowley assumed that any chance of falling back asleep was shot, as it usually was after a nightmare. Yet, he felt his eyelids begin to weigh down on his eyes, and despite his fear, he let them. 

As Crowley fell asleep, he could feel Aziraphale settling down next to him and stroking his hair, humming softly. 

\---

When Crowley woke up again, sunlight streamed in through the bookshop windows. The worn leather sofa had grown comfortably warm in the late morning heat, and Crowley felt well rested. He tried to stretch in his usual fashion, but a peculiar lump settled next to him prevented his efforts. Upon closer inspection, he saw that it was Aziraphale, wrapped up in the afghan the two had shared during the night, snoring like a freight train. 

Huh, would’ve never pegged Aziraphale as a snorer, Crowley thought to himself fondly. Aziraphale, at that moment, woke up with a large yawn, and sat up next to Crowley. 

“Good morning Crowley. Do you feel better?” Aziraphale asked sweetly.

“Better from wha- oh” 

The events of last night hit Crowley like a freight train. Oh go-, sa-,  _ someone _ no. He had subjected Aziraphale to all the bullshit brewing around his head carelessly. Aziraphale deserved all the apologies in the world after last night.

“Angel, I’m so sorry.”

As soon as Crowley spoke, anger flashed over Aziraphale’s face.

“Don’t you  _ dare _ apologize” Aziraphale replied sternly, his voice quavering. He looked like he was incredibly close to smiting whatever horrible little monster in Crowley’s head had suggested he  _ apologize _ for receiving comfort from a close friend. 

Aziraphale then softened, and asked, “How long have these nightmares been going on, Crowley?”

Crowley shrugged in his usual Crowley fashion, and replied, “I dunno. Been having them as long as I’ve been a demon, but I haven’t had one in fifty years.”

Aziraphale looked Crowley in the eye with an unusual intensity, and said, “Crowley. If you ever have another one of those nightmares, you can always come to me.  _ Always _ . Even if it’s the middle of the night, you can pop into the bookshop and talk. You don’t have to deal with your head alone.”

Crowley nodded, and replied, “Thank you, Angel.”

Aziraphale said, “My pleasure. We are on our own side, after all. That means we deal with our problems together."


End file.
